The Worst Advice Ever

"Don't be afraid

This morning I watched an hour-long podcast interview with Anna Appelbaum, one of America’s most brilliant minds when it comes to authoritarian governments. She talked at great length about how we’re living through a time when an unprecedented number of country are embracing similar ideologies, particularly controlling the media and voting, and creating such a climate of fear that people are scared to even say anything critical about the government in case someone overhears them. She made several references to the Trump administration, of course, because it’s clearly happening here. And she made sure she wasn’t giving the impression that these superpowers are meeting in secret rooms somewhere, planning all of this. She just spelled it out in the most logical, straightforward way, with strong examples, how these authoritarian leaders have slowly gained a foothold.

So at the end of the discussion, one of the hosts was astute enough to say to Ms. Appelbaum. “I’m imagining that a lot of people who have listened for this past hour are kind of scared right now hearing all this. What would you say to them?”

To which she replied “Don’t be afraid.”

What? How on earth is that helpful? I was pretty stunned that this was the best she could do, and it also made me kind of angry, because it perpetuates a notion that I grew up with in the West, which is that being afraid is a sign of weakness.

I have told this story many times before, so forgive me to those who’ve heard it, but when I was about 45, I woke up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming feeling that I was going to die. It was so powerful I got out of bed and started pacing around my apartment. I woke up my roommate, who I didn’t know that well, and told her what was going on, and it just freaked her out, so that didn’t help. And one of the most frightening parts about it was that it was quickly followed by a powerful desire to have a drink, which I hadn’t done for about fifteen years at the time.

After trying everything I could think of, I finally decided I needed to go to the emergency room, but when I got there and tried to explain what was happening, the woman at the desk was no help at all. I told her I needed to talk to someone, but she said she didn’t think there was anything they could do for me. Several of the comments she made indicated that she thought I was just trying to get some drugs from them.

Finally she agreed to talk to a doctor, and a guy came out looking very irritated. I told him I was fifteen years sober but that I was experiencing an terror I’d never felt before, etc. He finally looked at me and said “Aren’t you people in recovery supposed to have a Big Brother you call in times like this?”

So he was no help. I managed to get through that night, and I eventually realized that what I experienced was a panic attack, which I continued to have for about a year and a half. But thanks to some excellent advice from a friend of mine, who told me one day “Just call me next time you feel one of these things coming on.”

So I started calling him. And every time I called him, he asked me the same three things. First was “What are you afraid of?” And once I answered that question, he asked “What is the worst thing that can happen?” And once I answered that, he asked “What are you going to do next?”

Once they stopped happening, I never had one again. So it’s been about twenty-five years, abut what I learned from that was that fear is not the problem. I’m not weak or stupid to feel fear. And if I simply acknowledge what I’m afraid of and take some kind of action to move forward, it will eventually go away. Or at least feel a lot less frightening. I talk about fear a lot in my book BE A MAN: Raised in the Shadow of Cowboys.

That’s how I would have answered that question.

Every morning, I have breakfast and play a game of cribbage with my mother, who recently turned 90, and today she suddenly looked at me very earnestly and said “What do you want to tell me?”

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“Well, you know, I’ve been feeling pretty good lately, but…you never know…” and then she teared up and couldn’t continue.

And it was then that I realized what she meant, and we ended up having a very meaningful conversation about how our relationship has played out over the years. Some of the regrets but also the highlights. I know that I will treasure that moment forever because I had something similar happen with my father. And it happened because my mother, who was probably a little bit afraid to ask, did it anyway. Fear is not the problem. Inaction is the problem. Always.